


Few Screws Loose

by TheArtisticIntrovert



Series: Goretober 2016 [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Written for Goretober, he was not meant to be this crazy someone help me get my oc back to normal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtisticIntrovert/pseuds/TheArtisticIntrovert
Summary: Prompts 5, 12, 17, 26: Guts, Torture, Power Tools, Tied Up
please don't read if ur sensitive, this grossed ME out and i'm the fucker who wrote it





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts 5, 12, 17, 26: Guts, Torture, Power Tools, Tied Up
> 
> please don't read if ur sensitive, this grossed ME out and i'm the fucker who wrote it

It’s amazing how one little thing, one little tool that nobody even looks twice at, could cause so much damage. And it’s hilarious how nobody suspects teenagers to be up to something when they purchase one, so funny that he just couldn’t stop  _ giggling.  _ He swung the drill back and forth in his left hand, tapping it gently against his thigh as he hunted through a box for the perfect bit. He drew out a medium sized rectangular bit, a metal one that tapered off to a sharp, gleaming point. He pushed it into the empty drill carefully, the job made a bit more difficult by the fact his hands kept shaking. “Can’t mess this up… Gotta be careful… Can’t get caught…” he muttered under his breath, sighing quietly as the bit finally slid home. The rattling of chains broke the quiet, causing his grin to grow wider. Seems like his guest finally woke up.

 

“W-What the fuck?! Where am I? What the hell happened to me, kid?!” Basil laughed, spinning around and facing his guest with the drill leaning casually against one shoulder.

 

“Oh, nothing much! Just chloroform! You weren’t being very cooperative, see, so I had to take drastic measures.” He stepped closer, finger slipping onto the trigger and pressing it gently. The bit whirled menacingly, nearly hitting his ear but not quite. The man glared at him, baring his teeth.

 

“Why the hell would I wanna go anywhere with you, you psycho?!” he snarled, his words hitting Basil like a physical blow. He flinched, scowling. His smile vanished, all levity drained away to be replaced with a cold anger. The humming of the drill sounded even more sinister now, seeming to get louder as Basil lowered it from his shoulder. He stepped even closer, now right in front of the vertical table where the man was chained.

 

“Because you don’t have a choice, Deputy Commissioner Kim Yeong. I’m gonna make you guys  _ wish  _ you were competent, because it’s time for a little  _ experiment.  _ Y’see, I’ve been wondering something.” He stopped spinning the bit, tapping the tip against his chin. “How come when a common person commits a petty crime, they’re caught and charged. But when a  _ rich  _ person commits a  _ murder,  _ they get off scot-free?” He scowled, glaring at Yeong. “I’m gonna take you apart piece by worthless piece, and if they catch me I’ll admit the police force is competent. If they can’t, well…” He snorted, a malicious grin once again spreading over his face. “If the police can’t even catch a high school first year, why should I trust them to be able to administer proper justice to the adults?”   
  
Yeong’s breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in fear. “B-But, why me? Surely, there were other people you could’ve grabbed!” he said, desperately grasping at straws to make this kid let him  _ go.  _ He wasn’t expecting the mad cackling that rang around the room.

 

“There were, oh I could’ve grabbed  _ anyone  _ off the streets! But I wouldn’t do that. You know why?” Basil pressed the tip of the drill bit into Yeong’s palm, digging it in just enough to make an indent in the palm. “Those people didn’t do anything to me. You, on the other hand…” He pressed the bit in harder, a tiny drop of blood beading on the metal. “You lead the police. The same police who let my grandfather’s murderer go free. And for that… I can never forgive you.” His voice was cold, smile replaced by an angry scowl. He pulled the trigger, relishing the screams as the drill bit into Yeong’s palm, carving a hole right in the center. He kept pushing until he hit the wood of the table, pulling the drill out of Yeong’s palm. He was actively sobbing now, muscles straining as he tried to pull free from his chains. Blood flowed out of his palm, running rivers down his arm and staining the edge of his sleeve.

 

Basil wiped some blood spatters off his face, smearing it across his knuckles and cheek. He stopped the drill, wiping the bit off on the cloth apron he was wearing. “K-Kid,  _ please.  _ Please, just let me go!” Yeong pleaded, tears streaking down his cheeks. “You don’t wanna do this, I won’t even charge you if you let me go now please I’m sorry I’m  _ sorry—” _

 

“SHUT UP!” Basil roared, striking Yeong across the face with the drill. The sharp tip of the bit dug into his cheek, leaving behind a deep gash. “Nothing you say can change my mind. We’re seeing this through to the very end, you and me.” He laughed again, a dark chuckle that steadily grew louder and even more unhinged. He stumbled over to the workbench again, pulling out a cloth and a roll of duct tape. He set down the drill and brought the cloth over to Yeong, grabbing his jaw and forcing his mouth open. He shoved the cloth inside, securing it with copious amounts of tape. “As much as I love hearing your lovely screams, I can’t afford to lose this wager. There’s too much on the line,” he said, securing the last tape piece and ripping the roll free. He put it back on the bench, returning with the drill.

 

Yeong shook his head frantically, thrashing in his bonds. His eyes were filled to overflowing with terror, tears spilling down his cheeks and beading on the tape. “Aww, shh… It’s okay! You won’t die yet, don’t worry!” Basil narrowed his eyes, pressing the tip of the drill to Yeong’s other palm. “I won’t let you get away that easily.”

 

\--

  
Yeong had passed out after Basil had dug the fifth hole into his body (this one on the right side of his chest). His face was looking more ashen by the second, and Basil sensed he’d only have a little bit longer before Yeong bled out. He wiped the drill once more on his now-bloodstained apron, this time positioning the bit in the middle of Yeong’s forehead. “Goodbye, bastard. Let the games begin…” he muttered, pulling the trigger. Bits of blood spun away from his forehead, spattering Basil’s face in a macabre mockery of artwork. And still, he kept pushing. The drill whined, met with more resistance as he hit the frontal bone. He scowled and pushed harder, bracing his other hand on Yeong’s face to get more leverage. The drill broke through, bits of brain matter joining the blood spraying everywhere. Basil pulled the drill out again, grabbing a towel and wiping his face off. “Aaah, that was nice. Now, to lay the trail…”


End file.
